


I Was a Remix

by groovymoonshoes



Category: Degrassi, Degrassi the Next Generation, Degrassi: Next Class
Genre: F/F, F/M, Future Fic, M/M, Multi, alternative universe, everyone is secretly obsessed with Zoe Rivas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovymoonshoes/pseuds/groovymoonshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace isn't the kind of person who brings strangers home with her. Tristan isn't the kind of person who fights with his boyfriend. Maya isn't the kind of person who would think about leaving everything behind for their significant other. And yet...</p>
<p>6 part Gracevas/Triles/Zaya fic; one story, but the focus shifts between pairings. </p>
<p>Title from Things Are Looking Up by R5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Were a Diamond

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first half of the Gracevas section of the fic. The next parts are Triles, and then Zaya to round us out! Hope you enjoy!

Living with a couple who had gotten engaged just weeks earlier, Grace didn't spend a lot of time at home out of pure fear of walking in on something that she didn't want to see. She had seen way more of Zig Novak than she had ever wanted to in the time they had lived together since they moved out of the dorms, but there was a certain amount she hoped she would never need to see, ever. She dreaded the day that Zig and Maya got married; or perhaps she was just terrified that they were going to be worse as newlyweds and, god forbid, she would still be living with them when that happened.

That was why Grace had been viewing apartments nonstop for the last week and a half without telling her roommates. They would both insist that she stayed living with them and she could just hear Maya telling her _that if she moved out and they found her in a ditch she would be mad at her and haul her ass back to the apartment_. She would prefer living with newlyweds to being homeless any day, not that she was going to admit that to Maya; otherwise she stood no chance of ever leaving.

Unlike a lot of people, Grace liked riding the bus. She liked not needing to drive, and she liked being able to put on her headphones and not think until they got where she was going. The bus was reasonably empty and she wasn't in any immediate danger of being sat next to, just how she liked it.

A girl in a dress (that looked like it wasn't anything but sequins) and a pair of heels (that Grace didn't think she could comfortably walk across a room in) got onto the bus and sat in the seat behind her, her phone pressed to her ear. As the brunette got closer Grace could see that her makeup was running and figured that she had probably been wearing the same clothes since the night before; it was almost six o'clock in the evening then. Grace, unsure what she was even doing, paused her music and pulled her headphones down around her neck.

"I- I think this is a conversation we need to have in person," the girl said into the phone, her voice wobbling. "Yeah, I can't d-do this right now. I'm on the bus, can we talk later?" The girl winced and pulled her phone a few inches away from her ear, the person on the other end obviously raising their voice at her now. "I can take the bus! I'm a big girl! And I'll have you know that I'm on my way to a friend's house. Yes, my friend. Yes, I have those!" Grace could tell that she was trying her hardest to keep it together, and it wasn't _quite_ working. The girl sighed loudly and hung up her phone, and immediately turned it off.

Against all her better judgement, Grace was concerned about the girl.

"Hey, are you okay?" Grace asked her, turning round in her seat to face the girl. Why _did_ she care, anyway? She wasn't the kind of person who just cared about girls on the bus. Even if they were really pretty girls.

"I'm fine," the girl said pointedly, but Grace caught her lip quiver.

"You don't want to talk about it?"

The girl scoffed. "Why do you care?" Grace shrugged.

"I don't know. I'm a good person, I guess. So are we talking about it?"

"That was my _charming_ mother on the phone. She's with my agent. They want me to go home and I, like always, am being a difficult child. But woops, look like my phone ran out of battery." The girl shrugged innocently. Grace liked something about her attitude already.

"You still live with your mom?" Grace quirked an eyebrow at the girl, "How old are you, anyway?"

"I hardly think it's relevant," came her response. "But honestly? I'm not going to my friend's house. I don't really have anywhere to go."

"You don't have any friends?"

"Zero. Not since I tripped Amelia Burkhart and she fell into the cake, anyway." Grace had no idea how to make any traction with her from there. She knew nothing about the other girl, and she wasn't sure that even wanted to know anything more… or maybe, more importantly, _why_ she would want to know more.

"I'm Grace," she said, and stuck her hand over the seats for the girl to shake.

"Zoe," she introduced herself back, taking Grace's hand. She smiled, the first that Grace had seen from her. At least she wasn't crying.

* * *

The bus lurched forward, coming to an abrupt stop, and creating the end of their conversation. They had chatted the whole ride, and when the bus had filled up, Grace had moved to sit next to her instead.

"Well, this is my stop." Grace stood up and joined the progression of people towards the exit. She looked expectantly at Zoe, who was looking down at her hands, probably a matter of minutes away from crying again with her new distraction leaving so soon. "So, are you coming?"

"What?"

"You said you were going to a friend's house, didn't you? Hurry up, princess." Grace made her way off the bus, and stood on the sidewalk patiently. Zoe stepped out of the doors, last of all the people getting off. She must have had quite the deliberation with herself before she followed.

The girls walked together in silence in the direction of Grace's apartment. Neither was sure what to say, because neither had any idea what they were doing.

_She could be a serial killer for all you know_ , Grace thought, _this could have been her plan all along._

_She could be an axe murderer_ , Zoe thought, _she doesn't have an axe now or anything, but she probably has a whole room full of them. Which I'm walking towards._

"Aren't you cold?" Grace asked. Zoe's dress left plenty exposed to the elements; a one shoulder dress that only came to just above her knee. There was no space for a coat in her clutch purse, either.

"Not really. I stopped feeling it twelve hours ago."

"Dude," Grace said by way of response. Zoe shrugged it off.

"Are we close to your place?" she asked. She was slowing, no doubt due to her shoes as much as anything else. She had a fiery determination, Grace could tell that already from the short time they had known one another.

"Yeah, it's just around the corner. Hopefully we're not forced to wait outside."

"For what? You don't live alone?"

"Nope. I live with another girl and a guy, and you might have to shield your eyes on entry," Grace said. "You could take them off, you know. There's not usually a ton of broken glass around here."

"I made it this far, I'm fine," Zoe said, quickening her pace to prove a point that Grace wasn't really sure was necessary to make. "So you and your friends are like, a… group?"

"What? Ew, no. They're engaged and aren't very good at locking doors." At the reminder, Grace took her phone out of her pocket and shot a text off to Zig, warning him of her arrival. She had to at least try to make herself known. "Wait, do I look like someone who would be in a ménage à trois?"

"No! I mean, it wasn't an insult. Just… making conversation."

Grace shook her head in dismissal. "Right, of course. I know polyamory isn't bad, it's just, yeah, not me." Grace let them into the building, and led Zoe around to the elevators. "You're lucky these are working this week." Zoe simply smiled back, and stepped into the elevator behind Grace. She might have finally given up on the shoes had they needed to walk up the stairs, but that wasn't a judgement of Zoe's character that she would get to make. Any little detail about Zoe, how she reacted, was new information to file away about her in drawing conclusions about whether or not she _was_ a murderer.

"Are you sure your friends will be okay with me staying?" Zoe questioned.

"I don't care if they're not." Zoe couldn't hide how thankful she was that Grace was sticking to it and hadn't changed her mind on the walk. Zoe was really no worse on the street there than anywhere else, but for everyone involved, throwing her on the street just sounded like something unnecessarily awful. She couldn't imagine _not_ being a good person, letting Zoe be homeless without a coat for another twenty-four hours instead of having her inside.

When they got to Grace's apartment, she knocked on the door before entering, avoiding gazing directly into the room as she called out, "Does everyone have pants on?"

"I hope not," came a male voice from behind her. She spun around to see her neighbour, Miles, leaning in his doorway. "Is the boyfriend over at yours?"

"I wouldn't know, I haven't been inside yet," Grace said, accompanied by an _isn't it obvious?_ gesture.

"Right, of course," Miles said, stepping out of his own apartment and locking the door behind him. "Guess we're all going in then." Grace didn't even attempt to suppress an eye roll as the three walked into the apartment. Miles inviting himself over wasn't uncommon.

Sitting around on the couches in front of their TV were Zig and Maya, thankfully completely clothed, even if they were sickening to watch for how needlessly lovey dovey they were being. "Zoe, that's Zig and Maya. That's Miles. Everyone, this is Zoe. She's crashing here tonight." The pair received a couple of small waves and confused looks as Grace walked straight through to her bedroom, expecting her company to follow (which, thankfully, Zoe did), and Miles took a seat.

She opened up her drawers, looking for something more comfortable to lend Zoe. "I'm guessing you're going to want to shower. Bathroom's through there. You can borrow these. I'll get you out a towel." She handed a pile of clothes to Zoe; nothing fancy, just a shirt and sweats. The other girl took them, obviously a little surprised at how proactive Grace was being, but her gratefulness showed in her soft smile.

As Grace moved into the bathroom, Zoe followed. A few moments later and Zoe was equipped with a fresh towel, too. "Shower's easy, I'm sure you're intelligent enough to work it out. Just let it run for a minute before you get in. Use whatever stuff you want."

"Um, Grace?" Zoe said, making her stop and turn in the bathroom doorway, "thank you."

"No problem." Grace closed the bathroom door and waited just a couple of moments to hear the shower turn on before she went out to the living area, where Tristan had seemingly joined them too. He had probably been in the kitchen earlier, or at least that was the best guess Grace had as to why he hadn't been in his own apartment.

"Not joining her in the shower?" Miles teased as she sat down. She let a smile crack at the joke.

"Maybe later."

"Wait, Grace brought a girl home?" Tristan asked, sitting up attentively from where he was slouched against his boyfriend.

"It's not like _that_ ," Maya defended, "is it like that?"

"It's not like that," Grace affirmed.

"You don't need to be jealous, Maya," Tristan said, "you _are_ our token heterosexual. And you're engaged."

"Hey, I'm straight," Zig said quickly, sitting up sharply in protest. Tristan narrowed his eyes at him.

"Sure." Grace smirked at that. Zig's fragile masculinity wouldn't ever stop being a source of entertainment for the group. There was something to be said about easy targets, and Zig sure could be when it came to any questioning of him as a straight, masculine man. These were the quiet moments where she and Tristan got along best. They had always felt like an unlikely combo, but in a weird way they had clicked.

Grace and Tristan accused Zig of not being straight. Miles flirted with him as much as he did everyone else. And Maya? Well, she didn't discourage it.

"Aren't you two fighting?" Grace questioned Tristan and Miles. They had been at each other's throats for the last few days, but it wouldn't have been obvious to an outsider.

"We are," Tristan replied, though it didn't change the fact that he was sitting comfortably against Miles, who had his arm draped around his boyfriend.

"It's on hold," Miles elaborated. She nodded in response, pretending she understood what they meant. She had no freaking clue how they could just put a whole fight on hold. Not that she had a whole lot of romantic experience, but she was pretty sure fighting for weeks at a time with time outs wasn't a healthy way of dealing with problems. "Anyway, we want to hear about your new girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Well, that's defensive," Zig said, "Grace, we all know you're into girls. You don't have to hide anything from us."

"That doesn't make her my girlfriend, Zigmund. Actually, we just met recently," she admitted, though she wasn't too keen to elaborate on just how recent that was.

"So we should be placing bets?" Miles suggested. "Three weeks."

"Weeks? Three days."

"No, longer, not shorter. Three _months_."

"Fifty bucks says that they hook up tonight and then one of them has a gay crisis and _then_ it takes three months. Not that Grace would tell us if she got laid tonight."

"Prude."

"Oh my god, leave me alone," she finally retaliated.

"You bring in a shiny new toy and won't even let us play with it?" Miles pouted. There was a shuffling from the doorway. All five sets of eyes looked up, locking on Zoe, who was standing with a towel wrapped around her.

"Sorry, is there a comb somewhere I can use?" she asked, her arms wrapped cautiously around herself. Maya jumped up.

"Yeah, of course!" she hurried over to Zoe's rescue, ever the immaculate hostess, and soon enough she was back on the couch with Zoe tucked safely away in the bathroom. Tristan gaped open mouthed at Grace. She shrugged at him, unsure what had happened to have him react like that. He knew as well as the others that her "girlfriend" was in the bathroom.

"You didn't mention the girl in the shower was _Zoe Rivas_ , Grace!" he exclaimed, though in a hushed tone so that he wouldn't be overheard from the bathroom. He went so far as to wriggle over far enough so that she was within reach for him to hit with a magazine off the coffee table.

"Hey, that's bullying," she said, "and that doesn't mean anything to me."

" _The_ Zoe Rivas. _West Drive_ Zoe Rivas. There's a poster of her in our apartment," he hit her with the magazine again.

"Sorry?" she tried.

"You should be. If I knew I was meeting Gatsby Garcia today I would have dressed nicer."


	2. I Was a Stop Sign

Zoe ended up sleeping on the couch, once Miles and Tristan finally retreated across the hall to their own apartment. The evening hadn’t amounted to much; they ate dinner together, chatted over some music, and called it a night when they all got bored. On the one hand Grace was disappointed in herself for not giving up her bed for her guest, but on the other hand she was under no expectation to bend over backwards for Zoe, whether or not she was famous.

It’s not like Grace had even known she was famous until Tristan told her so.

Zoe was an enigma to Grace. She didn’t know why she was so interested in the other girl. She didn’t know why Zoe had run away. She didn’t know what she had run away from. All she really knew is that a girl who was on a teen drama was sleeping on her couch because Grace couldn’t keep to herself.

She was lucky that there was someone who might be able to give her some answers.

It was almost 1 a.m., but she knew that Tristan would at least be scrolling through twitter or tumblr on his phone if he was in bed. It wasn’t like he would be asleep, and if he _did_ happen to be he would still get back to her in the morning.

**Grace C.** _If you’re familiar with Zoe’s work, do you know who Amelia Burkhart is?_

**Tristan M.** _DUH. She’s an actress/model/goddess._

**Grace C.** _Zoe said she tripped Amelia up and she fell into a cake.  
_ **Grace C.** _Also that she doesn’t have any friends left after that._

**Tristan M.** _Amelia’s kind of bitch, anyway._  
**Tristan M.** _wait, they hate each other now?_  
**Tristan M.** _I guess they’re not secretly dating then.  
_ **Tristan M.** _Have you considered asking *Zoe* all these getting to know you questions?_

**Grace C.** _You need to tell me everything about her character on West Drive._

**Tristan M.** _Which one?_

**Grace C.** _what do you mean which one?_

**Tristan M.** _She’s played two. She was killed off the show and then they brought her back as her own twin._

**Grace C.** _they needed her that badly?_

**Tristan M.** _Hell yeah. West Drive is not the show it once was._

A clattering in the kitchen startled Grace, who immediately tossed her phone down and shot out of bed. She tried not to be too loud as she crept towards the source, realising halfway across the living room that should they be being robbed, she had left her phone and had no way of calling the police. Halfway across the living room she _also_ realised that Zoe wasn’t on the couch. She relaxed, and wandered through to the kitchen.

“Hey,” she said, and Zoe jumped, knocking all of the stacked pots and pans back out of the cupboard. She spun around, and the relief washing over her was totally visible.

“Oh, hey. It’s just you,” she said with a soft smile, “you gave me a fright.”

“ _I_ scared _you_?”

“Right, sorry about the noise. I was looking for a glass.” Grace went to the right cupboard and retrieved a glass to pass to Zoe. She accepted it gratefully, and Grace went about restacking the cupboard.

“Don’t worry about it. Tristan was the one cooking in here and he thinks all kitchens should be laid out like his, and somewhere in the midst of all his many talents he missed out on spatial reasoning skills.”

“Tristan is the…” Zoe made a gesture that didn’t actually mean much of anything.

“The gay one? Yeah. He loves _West Drive_.”

“Oh,” Zoe said, lowering her glass, “I didn’t think any of you knew anything about… all that.”

“Well, I don’t know anything,” Grace shrugged, “Tris was mad at me that I didn’t even recognise you.”

Zoe paused for a moment. “I’m not sure whether I’m insulted or relieved.”

“Does it matter?” Grace closed the cupboard and stayed on the floor, leaning her back against it. Zoe sunk down next to her.

“Not really.”

“Tristan said he thought you and Amelia Burkhart were secretly dating,” Grace said with a joking tone, trying to force something lighter into the conversation. She wondered if Zoe saw further behind her asking, somehow knowing that it was actually a prompt to figure out just how right about her Tristan was.

“She’s straight,” Zoe replied, far too quickly. Grace quirked an eyebrow at her. “And I’m… also… straight?”

“Bullshit,” she smirked.

“Okay, I’m not straight. I kissed her at a party during the week and when I tried to talk to her about it the other day she called me a filthy dyke. And _that_ is when I tripped her.” She sighed and took another sip of her water.

“You don’t think I’m just going to repeat all this to a tabloid?” Grace asked.

“The fact you’re asking means you won’t,” Zoe replied, “I don’t know, Grace, you trust me to stay in your house; I think I can trust you to keep quiet about the time I kissed a girl. She was really drunk, and it wasn’t much fun.”

“Sounds like she’s awful anyway.” Zoe hummed in agreement.

“I just wish it wasn’t her. I couldn’t have figured it all out with someone who is actually worthwhile,” she said. The moment lingered too long, Zoe looking softly at Grace, until Grace turned away. “Truth or dare?”

“What?” Grace responded. _Way to be eloquent._

“Truth, or dare?” Zoe repeated.

“Truth?” Grace answered hesitantly.

“If it isn’t _West Drive_ , then what’s your guilty pleasure?”

“I don’t believe in guilty pleasures. If I’m going to like something I’m not going to be guilty about it,” Grace shrugged.

“It’s a nineties pop group, isn’t it?” Zoe teased, but Grace had a strong poker face. “Okay, ask me now.”

“Fine. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to go into Zig and Maya’s room and kiss them both on the cheek.”

“That’s not fair, I don’t even know them!” Zoe protested.

“Are you declining? Do I win?” Grace challenged. Zoe was quick to snap back.

“I didn’t say that. Just that it might be inappropriate.”

“They’ll both be asleep, you’ll be fine. Just do it quick.” Zoe rolled her eyes as she stood up from the kitchen floor, placing her glass on the counter. Grace stayed sitting, watching as Zoe cautiously opened Zig and Maya’s bedroom door and crept inside. Moments later she darted out of the room, being sure to click the door quietly back into place.

“Okay, done,” she said, sinking back to the floor. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Am I boring if I choose truth again?”

“Yup.”

“Fine, dare.”

“Do you have ice cubes?”

Grace paused for a moment. “…no?” Zoe grinned, clambering to her feet and reaching for the freezer door.

“Bingo,” she said, pulling out a tray of ice cubes. “I dare you to tuck your shirt in and let me drop ice down your back.” Grace couldn’t avoid playing along now, and stood to her feet too. She tucked her t-shirt into her pyjama pants, just as requested, and braced herself for the impact.

“Okay, go,” she urged, and the cold hit her skin immediately. “Ah, fuck!” Grace cursed, wriggling around on reflex while Zoe cackled at her uncontrollably. “Has it been long enough yet?”

“Not until it stops being funny,” Zoe replied.

“Sadist.”

“Okay, take them out now before they melt everywhere.” Grace pulled the pair of ice cubes out, though she could have sworn there were three or four down her shirt. She held one in each hand as she approached Zoe. “No,” Zoe warned, “don’t you dare.” Grace backed Zoe into the corner of the kitchen counters, and lifted her hands to the other girl’s face, holding the ice to her cheeks while she squealed. “No fair!”

Grace laughed, and discarded the ice cubes into the sink, before turning back to Zoe. She was still backed right up against the counters, and Grace only then noticed how close she was standing to her. She didn’t hate it. Zoe was a pretty girl to say the least, and they were getting along so well. She went to take a half step back to have the edges of her t-shirt magically wind up in Zoe’s hands, pulling her closer. “Grace…” Zoe said, but after a beat Grace returned to stepping away from the girl. She wasn’t someone who kissed people the day she met them. Of course, she also wasn’t someone who invited girls she met on the bus to stay at her house.

“I want to go to bed,” Grace said plainly.

“But it’s my turn. You never asked me again.”

“Truth or dare, Zoe?”

“Truth,” she replied, lowering her hands from Grace, who was still standing remarkably close to her.

“Why won’t you call your mom back?” The question was obviously a soft spot. Zoe took a deep breath before she began.

“The simple answer is that I don’t want to keep living with her. I told her about what happened with Amelia, because when we kissed she was taking all these pictures, saying they were going to go on her Hastygram. I warned my mom, promised her I hadn’t been drinking, and she freaked out; but not because she thought I was drinking, but because I kissed a girl when I _wasn’t even_ drunk. Like I had no excuse. I was at Amelia’s birthday party when it all fell apart, which is why I haven’t been home since.”

“I want to tell you that she’s your mom and she loves you, but I’ve lived in the world long enough to know that’s not always the right answer,” Grace said softly. Zoe nodded.

“Grace?”

“Mm?”

“Can I have a hug?” Zoe asked hopefully, “I’ll let you get to bed then.” Grace wasn’t much of a hugger, but if there was anything she had learnt in the single evening that she had known the other girl, Zoe was strangely hard to say no to.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, opening her arms. Zoe fell into them, not being half-hearted with the hug. The hug, much like a lot of their interactions that night, went on a moment too long for absolute comfort. Zoe pulled back slowly, her arms still around Grace.

“Can I…?” Zoe asked cautiously, looking at Grace’s lips. Grace, someone who didn’t kiss people she didn’t know, who didn’t let strangers stay the night at her apartment, who wasn’t a hugger, wanted to kiss Zoe more than she wanted to do a lot of things. More than she wanted to go to bed, certainly.

She bit the bullet before she thought to answer Zoe at all, pressing her lips to the other girl’s. Zoe inhaled sharply, having expected to be the one initiating it instead of reciprocating. She wasn’t submissive in her kissing though, pushing back against Grace in some effort to be in control. They could follow each other’s lead though, and after a few moments they pulled away from one another.

“Go to bed, Grace,” Zoe said, slinking away from her to retreat to her makeshift bed on the couch. Grace nodded, still slightly dumbstruck by the kiss. “I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“I hope so,” she replied, cracking just the slightest of a smile. She turned off the kitchen light and padded her way through the dark living room to the dull glow of her still-on laptop in her otherwise dark and empty bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been ten days since I posted the first chapter; hopefully that means it will be another ten days and the next part will be up (Triles part 1). Feel free to hassle me on tumblr over at youscheminglittlebitch if that's not the case, or even just midweek to check up on how progress is.


	3. You Needed Time but You Were My Rolex

The advantage, for Tristan and Miles, of living directly across the hall from some of their best friends was that they didn’t have to leave until thirty seconds before they wanted to be at home. It was highly unlikely they would encounter any traffic problems, they didn’t have to account for if either of them had been drinking, and they had no need for the awful wait time between wanting to go home and getting there.

They left Grace, Zoe, Maya, and Zig only at the point that everyone agreed that it must be time for bed, or at least that they should courteously evacuate the living room so Zoe could sleep. They saw one another _most_ days of the week, and if they really couldn’t bear to leave the conversation they could have relocated back to Tristan and Miles’ apartment anyway. It just wasn’t that big a deal.

Tristan sunk down into the couch as soon as he made it inside the apartment, leaving Miles to lock up behind them. He looked up at the large _West Drive_ poster on the wall; while Zoe wasn’t the entirety of the picture, she was a big part of it, and certainly recognisable from it. “Grace _really_ had no idea who she was when they met? Where did they meet, the grocery store?”

Miles laughed under his breath, unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he approached Tristan. “You’re really wound up about this. Were you freaking out that whole time?”

Tristan nodded solemnly.  “I may have seemed fine, but Zoe Rivas is a goddess. Gatsby Garcia is my favourite character from anything ever. And yes, I _do_ know she’s playing Daisy Garcia now, but Gatsby is just better. There, I said it.” Miles laughed, finding it harder to suppress his fondness for Tristan.

“You’re the only person I know like this,” he said, resting his hand on Tristan’s arm, just enough to establish a physical contact between them as they sat on the couch together. “Wait, they really named a set of twins Gatsby and Daisy?”

“Hey, I don’t write the show.”

“You would in a heartbeat though,” Miles said, all dopey grin and lovebird eyes. Tristan wasn’t as reciprocal as he might have liked. He shuffled slightly closer to his boyfriend, but Tristan pulled back just enough to make it clear that he wasn’t going to initiate anything further. Something was obviously wrong, and he couldn’t stand that. And it wasn’t just about having his way with Tristan, either; he had been fine, physically affectionate all evening at the other apartment, and the moment they got back Tristan snapped into a defence mode. “Is something wrong?” he tried.

“Going to bed always puts me in a bad mood.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t feel like going to bed angry tonight, even if I don’t have a positive emotion to replace it. Can we just unpause for a minute?” Miles pulled away properly, knowing what Tristan meant by unpausing.

They were a couple that fought. Always about stupid, silly stuff, just so that they could reach a point where the tension became so much that they had to call it quits and resolve their tension in a more sexual way. It was just how they were, and it usually wasn’t serious. Tristan suspected that Miles left dishes lying around or forgot to do the laundry just so that he had something he could get in trouble with Tristan for.

When they fought about something real, something of note, it took weeks to resolve. It would be much like the evening they had just had; they would be affectionate, happy, and totally normal as far as they were, and then only talk more about what was annoying them when it got to the point where they couldn’t stop being annoyed on their own, where they just weren’t ready for forgiveness yet. They both had to admit that the fighting for weeks wasn’t a healthy way of dealing with it. They just weren’t prepared to admit it to one another yet.

“Okay, you go,” Miles allowed.

In a surprisingly calm fashion, Tristan began, “I think the reason I don’t like going to bed is that you’re always gone when I wake up.”

“That’s cute.”

“No, we unpaused for a reason. You’re gone so early because you’re working too much and you’d prefer to be there than here with me, and you know as well as anyone else that _that_ is why we’ve been fighting. I don’t want to go to bed angry knowing you won’t be there in the morning, and I don’t want to go to bed in false hope you’ll stay tomorrow either. It feels like I’ve been snuck out on by a one night stand, Miles. And we’ve been living together for a long time, it shouldn’t feel like that.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Miles said, his mind racing through every other aspect of the fight they had been having, “the waking up part. I knew you were mad about work.”

“Is it so crazy to think I might want to spend some time with you occasionally?”

“We were together all evening. I was home for less than five minutes before I came looking for you, Tris,” he tried to defend, “and now you’re about to exile me to the guest room, so that we can avoid each other tomorrow morning too?”

“It’s not about the mornings.”

“You just said it was.”

“Right now it is. But _it’s_ not. It’s about you working so much, and you’re just avoiding the conversation. Besides, Miles, it’s a _Saturday_ ,” Tristan snapped. Miles didn’t have a comeback. He didn’t have a justification. He didn’t have the guts to tell Tristan the truth about where he had been all day. Not yet. “What, no comeback?”

“I don’t feel like doing this right now, Tris. You know how often we fight about this? I’m so over it,” Miles said, “Unpopular opinion, but make up sex isn’t worth it anymore.”

“So what do we do now then, if you’re so over fighting?” Tristan asked, “Try to pause it indefinitely until we forget we were ever fighting, even though you’ll just keep spending your entire day at work? Call it quits?”

“Woah, Tris, I don’t want to break up with you,” Miles said, grabbing his boyfriend’s hands. Tristan, surprisingly, didn’t yank them away. “I just meant that I think we should talk this one out. _Properly._ Not in fragments.”

“Fine. But if this going to take a while, I’m getting a cup of tea.”

“Yeah, of course. Take your time.” Miles sat patiently on the couch while Tristan boiled the kettle and brewed his tea, doing nothing but listening to the soft sounds of his boyfriend in the kitchen, finding some comfort in the domesticity of it. This was the whole reason that they had moved in together in the first place, after all.

Tristan returned to the couch and placed a mug in front of Miles on the coffee table without a word. He was ignoring the fact that he had done it, and he wasn’t seeking thanks from the gesture. Miles knew that his grateful smile was enough and that anything more would be acknowledging the simplicity of the gesture all too much for them.

“So obviously you’re mad at me for working,” Miles started, though it wasn’t his place to argue Tristan’s side of it. If he couldn’t get Tristan to open up then the whole point of sitting down together to work it out would be nulled.

“I’m not mad at you for working, I’m mad at you for _always_ working. It’s like you’re avoiding me and I don’t know why. Right now you’re putting it on me, and that’s not fair, but I’m not totally innocent either. But I’m the bitch here, obviously, and you’re a saint.”

“I never said that, Tris. But you can’t have it both ways, you know? You can’t have me sleep in the guest room and then complain when I’m not in bed with you in the morning.”

“But you won’t be there in the morning if you _are_ in bed when we go to sleep, and that’s the whole problem circling round again. We live together, I thought we were really committed to it-”

“I am-” Miles interrupted. If only Tristan knew.

“You can’t just pick me up and put me down when it suits you.” The pair let the moment linger reflectively for a while, letting the atmosphere settle. “Okay, you go.”

“I’m sorry that I made you feel that way,” Miles began, “I _love_ you Tris, you know that, right? It’s like- I just- some days I don’t know what I would do without you. The _last_ thing I want to do is ever make you feel like that isn’t true.” When they had first dated, in hindsight, it felt like just about all Miles did in their relationship was take Tristan for granted. The beauty of aging was that he had grown up since, and it wasn’t something he would dream of doing anymore. He knew that Tristan knew that, too. They had grown up _together_ ; while Tristan was always going to be a drama queen, he had toned down some of the theatrics just as much as Miles had. They weren’t the same people now they were the first time around, but that was what made their relationship really work.

“Apology acknowledged,” Tristan said, an obvious dodge of saying that he was accepting it fully, “and I love you too. Of course I know you love me, idiot.” He sighed into his cup of tea before taking a leisurely sip. “So what are you mad at me for?”

Miles shook his head. “I don’t remember anymore. I just want you to stop being mad at me.”

“I’m getting there.”

Miles drained the last of his tea and rose from the couch. “You done?” he asked, gesturing to Tristan’s mug. He nodded and passed the mug to his boyfriend.

“Thanks.” Tristan’s gentle smile, which Miles returned, was enough.

“I’m going to go to bed soon,” Miles said from the kitchen, rinsing the mugs. Tristan stayed seated on the couch, stretching in preparation for standing.

“Likewise,” he returned, as Miles finished up. They met halfway to the bedroom, and Miles gestured for Tristan to go ahead of him, following his boyfriend into the room. They got ready for bed around one another in comfortable quiet. Tristan climbed into the bed, and Miles stayed standing.

“Should I..?” he asked, gesturing towards the door. Tristan rolled his eyes.

“Get into bed, dummy.” Miles didn’t need a second invitation, flicking off their bedroom light and sliding into his normal place in the bed. Tristan immediately shuffled over into his arms. “I miss you.”

“I’m here,” Miles said, “especially since you let me sleep here.”

“I’m sorry, do you _want_ to sleep in the guest room?” Tristan quipped. Miles let it go as a rhetorical question, snuggling down instead. “You have no excuse to leave early on a Sunday, right?”

“None.”

“Good.”

“You know I don’t ever just leave, right? I have my mornings timed around spending twenty minutes lying here with you. You’re just usually asleep for that.” It was an admission that obviously surprised Tristan.

“I had no idea,” he said quietly. It almost made his earlier argument seem stupid. Almost. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re beautiful? I love you? I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you but don’t want to weirdly kiss you while you’re asleep? Take your pick, they’re all true.”

“Thank you for valuing my consent.”

“You’re welcome. Can I get a goodnight kiss?” Miles could just about hear Tristan quirking an eyebrow at him. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Tristan kissed Miles gently, the pair exchanging lazy kisses for a few minutes, before they murmured _I love you_ s to one another and settled down in peaceful quiet. They were both awake still, neither making an effort to sleep, but neither wanted to do anything but share the time cuddling either.

Tristan’s phone buzzing on the nightstand startled them both in their drifting off. “You forgot to silence your phone,” Miles said, sleepily pointing out the obvious.

“Thanks, Sherlock.” Upon checking his phone and seeing it was a message from Grace, Tristan turned back to his boyfriend. “Do you want to hear more Zoe gossip?” he asked animatedly, and Miles couldn’t do anything but smile dopily at his boyfriend and his enthusiasm.

He propped himself up on one arm, giving his attention to Tristan. “What have you got?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, where do you think Miles was all day if he wasn't at work, hmmm?? (imagine me winking at you for emphasis here)


	4. you turned my whole world upside down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA the one where everyone is secretly obsessed with Zoe Rivas and Miles and Tristan are just dorks in love

The next morning proved to be exactly what Miles needed. After finally pushing through the fight with Tristan, to wake up next to him and not in the guest room felt amazing. It was a different resolution to their other fights. For starters, he had gone to sleep full clothed, where he usually would have been recovering from (often rather athletic) make up sex. Fighting _always_ ended with makeup sex, though apparently not the fight that they had just had. He didn’t feel upset or bad about that in the slightest. Cuddling with his boyfriend was something that could feel far more intimate.

Miles had had sex with a lot of people, but in hindsight it probably wasn’t until Tristan that he had ever felt that it could be more than a physical experience. The emotional connection that it had brought him with Tristan was more important than any number of orgasms he could have had in his lifetime. He really hadn’t ever thought that the loving feeling everyone had always promised him would really exist, but then there it was.

Tristan stirred next to him, rolling over to face him. Miles couldn’t have stopped himself from smiling if he wanted to. Waking up next to Tristan was the best thing about having moved in together, and that was exactly why he knew he wanted to do this every day for as long as possibly could. Tristan rubbed his eyes, smiling over at his boyfriend.

“Morning,” he said, “watching me sleep again?” Miles smiled.

“It sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“That’s not a no. How long have you been awake for?”

Miles glanced at his phone. “About an hour.”

“And you stayed?” He had promised as much the night before. He couldn’t have left, no matter how much he might have wanted to. There would have had to be a pretty big emergency before that was even an acceptable thought to have.

“I _did_ get up to pee,” he admitted, “but I came back.”

“I like this,” Tristan said, shuffling over a bit to snuggle against his boyfriend some more. “This is what I was talking about.”

“I know.”

“Is it bad that I’m actually surprised you’re here? Even after you said you would be?”

“No, that’s fair. But it matters to you and you matter to me.” Tristan hummed in agreement.

“You’re whipped.” He grinned, leaning up to kiss Miles. Miles, without any second thought, obliged. It wasn’t something he was going to argue; mostly because Tristan wasn’t wrong. Tristan had him around his little finger, and he could admit as much. “Do you want to go make breakfast?”

“Why do I feel like that wasn’t a question?” Miles asked. It went unanswered, save for a look of feigned innocence. “I take it you’re staying?”

“I’ll join you in a minute, if you go get started.”

“Okay.” He pressed a parting kiss to Tristan’s forehead and climbed out of the bed, stopping to grab a discarded hoodie from the floor and pulling it over his head on his way out.

“Miles?” he stopped in the doorway, turning to face his boyfriend. Tristan blew him a kiss.

“I love you too.”

* * *

 

“…and _that_ is why Gatsby is the superior Garcia twin.”

“Tell me again why your career doesn’t involve persuasive speaking?” Miles asked his boyfriend over their pancake breakfast out on their tiny balcony. Their apartment wasn’t a lot, but they had done what they could with it. While they were both in well-paying jobs and could have afforded somewhere nicer, having a two bedroom apartment that was decorated to their tastes _and_ regularly having money left over to save or spend that wasn’t put towards rent, bills, and other necessities worked out perfectly for them. They could sacrifice a big balcony with a breath-taking view if it meant they had money for a few luxuries.

“Just one of my _many_ talents.”

“I wish I had a defence for Daisy but I’ve only been watching the show as long as we’ve been together and I mean, a character who causes that much drama and then gets killed off? Going to beat the Daisy Garcia’s of this world every time.”

“Not even a rebuttal attempt? You _love_ Daisy,” Tristan urged.

“I’ve never said that. I wouldn’t even admit to the others that I watch _West Drive_ with you.” Tristan had been watching the long running show for a decade of ups and downs, all through his teen years. It was something important to him, and Miles never for a moment tried to avoid something that was of such gravity. He knew that Tristan knew that he enjoyed the show, but he also knew that Tristan understood he would never admit as much to anyone else. They knew that they weren’t the same person, that they could have different interests, and the fact Miles had ever even tried to watch the show was enough. His continued watching of it only pointed to one thing; he actually liked it.

“But?”

“But Noah Metzler and Daisy Garcia make a very attractive couple and I wouldn’t hate to be in that sandwich.”

“There we go.” Tristan paused for a moment, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Shit, we _know_ Zoe Rivas now. You can’t just go around talking about how you want to bang her, or whatever.”

“Not even if you’re invited?” Miles teased. Even he had the decency not to say something like that to her face.

“Oh please, like I’d accept.” Tristan shuddered.

“Aw, not even for me?”

“Not with Noah and Daisy, no. With Jacob Fletcher, maybe.”

“Jacob and Noah or Jacob and Daisy?”

“Jacob and- hey, wait! This is just what I said we can’t do. Oh my god, I have to close my fan accounts. Delete my blog. Private all the _West Drive Experience_ videos!” Tristan stood up, just moments from bolting inside and doing all he said he would.

“Hey, Tris, it can wait until after breakfast, right?” Miles said, a last effort to calm Tristan. He would prefer that his boyfriend didn’t set fire to their apartment in trying to destroy all evidence that he was ever a fan of _West Drive_.

“Right, yeah.” He sat back down with a sigh.

“Not to backtrack, but firstly, I don’t want to ‘bang’ anyone,” Miles said, “secondly, while I agree with you that we should tone it down before something weird comes up in conversation about who you’re shipping Zoe’s character with at any given time, there’s no point trying to hide everything. You know the others revealed your true fan identity to Zoe the second we left, right? Like, inevitably. You should just own it. I don’t think she’s going to start a conversation about her job any sooner than you or I would, you know? She’s just a person. A very pretty person, but a person.”

Tristan rolled his eyes, slumping his shoulders. “You’re right. I hate that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Do you think we’ll even ever see Zoe again?” Tristan asked, the longing evident in his voice.

“I don’t think she’s going anywhere. The apartment across the hall is full of stubborn people, so long as she doesn’t have anywhere else to go she’s not leaving,” Miles assured.

“Miles?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve just realised that we have a guest room and we made Zoe Rivas sleep on a couch chosen by Zig Novak.”

“It’s a very comfortable couch,” Miles defended. It was better not to bring up that he had thought that he was going to sleep in the guest room.

“Well it wasn’t purchased to match the décor, that’s for sure.” Miles couldn’t help but grin.

* * *

 

While the plans had been laid that they would spend the whole day together without interruptions, by early afternoon it became clear that while _the_ Zoe Rivas was potentially just across the hall nothing else would measure up to that in importance. After ten minutes of inventing an excuse to visit (although, as Miles pointed out, they dropped by without excuses more often than not), Tristan pulled Miles out of their apartment and to the Matlin-Novak-Cardinal residence. His outfit was far more appropriate for seeing a _West Drive_ star than he felt his outfit the day before had been.

Tristan knocked politely on the door, something he usually only did upon finding it locked. He needed to ensure that, at all possible moments, he was making the right impression on Zoe. A moment passed, he squeezed Miles hand for support, and the door opened.

It was Grace.

“Oh, hey,” she greeted with slight surprise, stepping aside to let the pair in, “it was open.”

“Hi Grace,” Miles replied as Tristan’s whole body relaxed with disappointment, “are the others around?”

“Yeah, they’re somewhere,” she said, gesturing at the apartment as a whole, “they were getting ready but that was half an hour ago.”

“And Zoe?” Tristan chanced.

“She’s here,” came a familiar voice from the kitchen, Zoe emerging with a mug in hand a moment later.

“We were about to leave, when Maya and Zig are ready to go,” Grace said, “we’re going to go pick up some of Zoe’s stuff.”

“It takes all of you to do that?” Miles asked. Grace shrugged.

“Support crew.”

“My mom isn’t thrilled,” Zoe said, “but she cares about me enough to realise that going ho-” she paused and cleared her throat, “that going back there doesn’t make sense in a disagreement of this size until we can speak on the phone to one another properly, and she’s agreed that I can go and collect some clothes and things and that she is willing to treat me like an adult on this one.” Having not really ever had any explanation as to why Zoe had stayed over, Tristan and Miles did the sensible thing in smiling, nodding, and storing away the information to piece together later. “We’re grabbing lunch after, if you want to come?”

“Yeah,” Tristan accepted, obviously thrilled, “wait, are you staying here longer then?”

Zoe nodded. “Looks like it.”

“We have a guest room. You can come stay with us, if you don’t want to sleep on the couch,” Miles offered, “we kind of operate like one big family anyway, you can always come and go between the two apartments.” Tristan nodded in agreement, squeezing Miles hand in a nonverbal thank you. He understood.

“I’ll get back to you?”

“Of course. Consider it a standing offer.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Zig said, exiting his and Maya’s bedroom with his fiancée following quickly, “Miles, chuck me my jacket?” Miles tossed the jacket draped on the back of the couch to him as Zig realised that the couple that didn’t actually live in the apartment was present. “Oh, hey, guys. Are you coming with?”

“Yeah,” Tristan answered, “I didn’t know you owned anything with sleeves.”

“I-” Zig started, before Maya rolled her eyes, “can’t argue with that.”

In the walk down to the roadside, the agreement was made that Tristan would drive Grace and Zoe in a thinly veiled move to continue chatting with the star, while Miles rode with Zig and Maya. Miles had some things he needed to discuss with the other couple, and he was honestly thankful for the distraction that Zoe was.

“So you want to talk to us about something?” Maya prompted, not a minute after the car was started, “is it about the wedding? We haven’t set a date yet.”

“I want to ask Tristan to marry me,” Miles rushed, the words almost spilling out of him. It felt strange to admit it to Maya and Zig, but he needed their blessing.

“Congrats, man,” Zig said.

“Yeah, congratulations!” Maya said, “But why did you need to tell us that before you told _him_ that?”

“Because you two haven’t been engaged that long. I don’t want to steal your thunder or anything,” Miles explained. It was something that had been weighing on his mind since he had made the decision a few weeks ago, and had come more into focus since he had spent the day before ring shopping and visiting his mom for her support and opinions.

“So long as you don’t get married before us it’s not a problem,” Maya said, “you can’t set your date until we’ve set ours, deal?”

“You have some time, I’m not going to ask him tomorrow,” Miles assured, “Zoe is still new and exciting and until he can hold a conversation about anything else it’s not worth trying.”

“What are you waiting for?” Zig asked, “If you know you’re going to, then you should just go for it.”

“Maybe.”

“Do you have a ring?”

“Maybe.”

“Wait, aren’t you two fighting?” Maya asked, “I know you were all cuddly at our place yesterday, but I also know that doesn’t mean a lot for you two.”

“We worked it out.” Miles figured they didn’t need all the details about how it had all gone down. They didn’t need to know that Miles’ absence the day before to get his proposal in order had been part of their fight.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

“Do we need to act surprised in a week or two when he says yes?” Zig asked.

“Have you _met_ my boyfriend?”

“Okay, fair point. He’ll say yes though.”

“He will,” Maya agreed.

“Thanks,” Miles said, “I hope you’re right.” He was pretty confident Tristan would accept, though. He couldn’t imagine a world without his boyfriend in it, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. He knew Tristan wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

“So, will Zoe and Grace start dating before or after Miles proposes?” Zig challenged, “twenty bucks says it’s before.”

Maya shook Zig’s extended hand. “You’re on,” she said, “now put both hands back on the wheel, I want to make it to Zoe’s house. It’s probably beautiful.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so long, omfg. I'm sorry. I'm on break for the next few weeks and I'd love to get this finished so there's that. The next two chapters will be switching over to Zaya, and I'm not as confident writing them? Idk, I'll watch a lot of their scenes and try to get them right.   
> I'd also just like to mention that 2/3 of this chapter were written before Next Class season 2 so any similarities are purely coincidental (particularly in my feelings about Miles re emotionless sex), and I stand by my being Gracevas trash and having the Grace/Zig (Zace? Idk I've literally never seen anyone ship it) relationship being the level of platonic that it is.


	5. You're Like a Gold Mine

"… _so we want you to fly in for a few days to talk it over. Are you busy next week? We can get you all booked in now,"_ Maya's agent said to her over the phone. Everything she had been working towards since she was a teenager was finally coming together; after the moderate success of her self-produced EP, the buzz around her music had been growing. What had started as a tiny number of followers had grown and grown until she wasn't able to go anywhere further out, only up. She had seemingly reached about as far as she could through word of mouth and her internet presence, and the time had come to find someone to represent her and start getting her music into record companies. The only real trouble with having an agent like Brent was that he split his time, and an increasingly large portion of his work seemed to be LA based.

"Actually, next week isn't great," she confessed, "I have an engagement party, and-"

" _Send them a nice bottle of wine and apologise and get your butt over here, Matlin. Missing one party when you could be here won't kill you."_

"No, you don't understand. This is _my_ engagement party. We've been planning it for months. My sister is coming." She started pacing around the kitchen. She wasn't prepared to drop her party, and Brent was going to be a tough person to convince.

" _Maya, you have your whole life to play weddings. I'm asking for you to come visit for a couple of days so we can lock in this deal. We're talking albums and tours here. Look, it's not my life, I can use this meeting slot for another client. But I'm offering this one to you because I think you're the one who can really sell it. I'm doing this for you, Maya."_

She sighed, ensuring that it wasn't directly into the phone to be heard by Brent. She didn't want to seem ungrateful for what he was doing for her, but then again, that was his job. He was being paid _by her_ to do this. "I just can't do next week, I'm sorry. I'll be letting too many people down." People who were vastly more important to her than her agent.

" _One day. Come to LA for just a day, that's all I'm asking. I'm doing this all for you."_

"Maybe like Monday or Tuesday? Just… not close to the weekend, okay? I can't stay any extra days this time."

" _Gee, well, it's going to be tough to get a meeting with these guys at such short notice, but I'll see if I can pull out the stops. You gotta be here when I get it though, yeah? This is all for you, Matlin."_

Maya looked out of the kitchen to the living room, where Zig, Zoe, and Grace were throwing popcorn at one another. She figured they had started by trying to catch it with their mouths, but it had since disintegrated into more of an all-out popcorn war. She so wanted to join them, but she had to get this right. "Yeah," she said, "Monday or Tuesday, and I'll be there. I just have to tell Zig."

" _The boyfriend?"_

"He's my fiancé. That's why we're having an engagement party?" she corrected. She was proud of her music, but she was also very proud of her fiancé, and she wasn't going to minimise the importance he had in her life.

" _Of course,"_ Brent said. Maya could imagine his forced smile as he said the words. Her agent didn't get to have opinions on the important people in her life. She wanted to make that very clear.

"Great, well, I'll see you next week then," Maya said, poised to hang up. The conversation had taken way too long for her liking. She cut the call before Brent could add anything more onto the end of the conversation. She silenced her phone and left it on the counter in the kitchen, prime position for ignoring any further business calls. Anyone else she could get back to later, or they could try calling Zig if they had to get in touch with her. Either way she wasn't answering her phone.

Zig raised his arm in defence, trying to signal to the girls to go easy for a moment, as Maya re-entered. "You were out there for a while," he commented, "was it Brent?" He over pronounced Brent's name, making sure it was emphasised in just the right way. Zig had never liked the agent, not that Maya especially liked him either. Zig didn't have to work with him though.

"Yeah, he wants me to fly to LA for some big meeting next week," she said, sinking down onto the couch beside her fiancé. "I don't want to go."

"Why not? That's a big deal," he said, draping his arm around her.

"He was annoyed when I said I couldn't skip the party on Saturday."

"Did you point out that it was your engagement party?" Grace asked, the popcorn fighting seemingly having stopped, leaving Zoe and Grace to pick up the pieces around them.

"Of course," Maya assured, "Brent just thinks I should put everything else on hold for him and all that he does for me, or whatever."

"You can't have an entertainment industry career _and_ existing relationships," Zoe said with a sigh. Maya had been surprised how much Zoe's acting career had opened doors for conversation between them. They both had agent issues, for starters, but Zoe had a lot more experience in the industry. She had gone so far as to confide that, following her exit from _West Drive_ for Gatsby's death, she had recorded an album. It never left the studio walls, but she had an insight for how the business dealt with it that she could share with Maya. The two understood one another's career pathways better than they had anticipated.

"And what exactly _does_ he do for you?" Zig asked. He received three matching looks from the girls, all questioning his confusion on the topic. They all thought it was fairly obvious what talent agents did for their clients. "No, I mean, you were just on the phone with him for twenty minutes and he didn't even want to listen to you. Why is he your agent? He's no closer to booking you anything if he isn't prepared to work around your life."

"Exactly. I'm not signing anything that isn't going to be good for me. For _us._ And unless Brent can learn to let me have a life that isn't in LA it's not going to work out and he isn't going to make any money."

"Wait, you don't pay him?" Zig really was confused now.

"He gets ten percent," Maya explained, "so for every dollar I make on my EP, he's getting ten cents. If I made ten million, he gets one of the ten. But we both need for me to sign some deals before it pays off for him."

"Zig makes a good point though," Grace said, "Does he even do anything for you? You're so unhappy about him getting you in the door. Isn't that why you got an agent?" Maya shook her head.

"I'm not unhappy about him booking meetings. I'm unhappy about him expecting me to fly to LA every other week for meetings he hasn't even booked yet."

" _That's_ your representation?" Zoe said, obviously surprised, "Maya, you need to change agents. This guy is making ten percent and he won't even listen to you? How does he expect to get any deals if he can't do that part of his job properly? You have to be able to show up." Zoe folded her arms, shaking her head and taking breaths to try to calm down, having worked herself up so much about agent drama. "Management, honestly. You should ask to be transferred. If the agency won't move you to a new rep then you say you'll walk. Any agency would be lucky to have you. I have contacts I can hook you up with. Don't stress it."

"Thanks," Maya said, genuinely touched by Zoe's gesture. She spoke her words in a way that made it seem like it was no big deal and it she would only do it if and when convenient, but Maya realised that she actually knew Zoe well enough, even having known her for such a short amount of time, to recognise that it was all part of the image she had to keep up. It was something that meant a lot to Maya.

"That's that then? You'll leave Brent?" Zig asked.

"I'll see how LA goes first?" Maya suggested, "We'll wait it out and see how things go. There's no way I'm missing the party and-" now that the threat of having an intimidating agent that rarely seemed to care about her best interests wasn't hovering over her, she could actually let herself be happy for the current offer on the table and the meetings that Brent had promised. "And this a really big thing for me and I should see where it leads."

"Okay," Zig pressed a kiss to the top of her head, "whatever makes you happy."

"I want to hire a wedding planner," she blurted, "I don't want our wedding to be any later than it has to be. Maybe if you're my husband instead of my fiancé the agency will stop treating you like you aren't my family."

"Family?" Zig couldn't hide his smile.

"Well yeah, I don't know what else to call it."

Grace moved over to sit on the same couch as Zoe and nudged her gently. "Can you imagine that one day there will be little Blondies running around?" she said, "Hey, will they be Novaks or Matlins?"

"Novaks," Zig said immediately.

"We haven't talked about it," Maya amended.

"If you're hiring a wedding planner, does that mean you're setting a date, finally?" Grace asked.

Maya nodded. "I guess so. I'll just be happy to know that something is being planned even when I'm not thinking about it."

"They've done a lot of not thinking about it," Grace stage-whispered to Zoe.

"Are you ever worried that you're too young for this?" Zoe asked, "Sorry, is that getting too personal? I don't actually know you guys that well-"

"No, it's fine," Maya assured, though she paused for a moment to consider Zoe's question. She knew that she was young, but she was also ambitious. There was a reason she was looking to pursue a music career of her own rather than producing tracks and writing for other people forever. Maybe part of the reason she had agreed to marry Zig was to tick something else off the list before she hit thirty. "We've been together for a long time," she said, leaving it at that.

"Well, why did you ask her?" Zoe directed at Zig. He didn't need to pause for answering.

"Because I can't picture my future without Maya in it. Why wait?"

Zoe smiled. "That's… nice," she said. Slightly understated, but it seemed she wasn't sure where else to go with that thought. "I can't picture a future with anyone. Just me alone. Sometimes with my mom."

"I hope that wherever we end up we're still all together," Grace said, the vagueness of who _we_ included left open. Everyone was rooting for Zoe and Grace to be properly together in the first place. "You two will have your kids in a big house that you bought with all the money Maya is going to make, I'll live in a tent in your garden, and Tris and Miles will still be living right across the road."

"You can do better than a tent, Grace. At _least_ an apartment over our garage," Zig teased.

"You could be a surrogate for Miles and Tristan. They would probably pay you for that," Zoe suggested.

"Too much pregnancy involved," she shuddered. "Wait, you're not pregnant, are you? Is _that_ why you got engaged?"

"What? No," Maya said, "I'm not pregnant." Though, in all honesty, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if she was. They were financially secure enough that they could make it work, and they were already engaged. An unexpected pregnancy would be survivable now. Maybe that was the real sign that they were actually adults now, engagement or not. How strange. It was also strange how that indicator didn't apply to any of their friends.

"Aww, you got me all excited for baby Matlin-Novaks," Grace said. "We should get a puppy."

"Yeah, we _should_ get a puppy!" Zig said, leaning over until he was in high five range of Grace, who was all too happy to comply.

"Do you really want to co-parent a puppy with us? What about when you move out?" Maya asked. She knew as well as anyone else that Grace was planning to leave the apartment before the wedding, and she understood. She probably wouldn't stick around if she was living with Tristan and Miles, their best example of couple friends that they had, and that was _before_ they got engaged.

Grace was almost too quick to come up with an answer. "Consider this: two puppies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're really perceptive you've probably noticed a couple of things: 1) I wrote this way faster than the last chapter, and 2) I've changed it from 6 chapters to 7. Not that I've started writing chapter 6, but I'm pretty certain that this needs an epilogue to tie some ends up before I'll be ready to move on from it. Thanks so much for reading (and do come hassle me if I don't publish the next chapter in a reasonable time frame)


	6. You Were the Sunshine

Maya was the second to last person to get off the plane. She, like everyone else, was relieved to have arrived at her destination, but unlike most egocentric travellers she had the decency to wait and let all the families clear first. No one needed her clogging the aisle up, and she hated the pushing people did in efforts to leave the plane as soon as possible. She had been in the window seat for the flight, so she had no excuse not to stay put while the crowd thinned. By the time she was through the airport, the usual swarm around the gate had dwindled significantly, making it easy to locate her fiancé- and her sister with him.

“Katie!” Maya greeted, throwing her arms around her sister, “I’m so glad you could come. How are you? Did Zig look after you?” she glared playfully at her fiancé, before hugging him in greeting as well.

“Of course he did,” Katie responded with a playful roll of her eyes. “How was LA?”

“Let’s just say I’m happy to be home.” Zig took Maya’s hand, and the trio made their way towards the baggage claim together.

“So?” Zig prompted, hoping that she would have good news to share.

“Brent wants me to do a tour.” Zig and Katie both beamed, stopping in their tracks to congratulate Maya. The two were thrilled, and Maya had to let them be thrilled. She couldn’t reveal the other side of that until it was just her and Zig, without company or a general public around.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be going out celebrating?” Zig asked, taking her hand again. Maya shook her head.

“I just want to go home.”

“Okay,” he said sweetly. Maya was grateful for Zig at the best of times, but it was moments like this where he knew not to pry, to just take her less verbal cues and trust them, that she was stopped in her tracks. She was incredibly lucky to have him as her biggest fan and the base of support network, and she didn’t want to ever forget that.

* * *

Maya was unsurprised when she arrived home to find Zoe was reading, curled up on the couch. She was sure Grace was around somewhere, but even since she had been staying across the hallway at Tristan and Miles’ apartment Zoe had been spending a lot of time around Grace. The gossip amongst their friends had still not got any further information about what was going on between the two of them, but they had an obvious connection, regardless of whether or not they were dating. The pair were interesting to observe; they had only known one another for a short amount of time, but they seemed to have the same kind of comfort around each other that she and Zig had- the kind where you could leave someone to themselves in your house while you got some work done and it wasn’t awkward.

“Oh hey,” Zoe said warmly, marking the page with her hands, “welcome home.”

“Thanks,” Maya replied, not even bothering to ask why she was there, “is Grace around?”

“Yeah, she is. She went to take a shower a while ago.” Katie went over and sat down beside her. Maya supposed the two had met earlier, which saved her some hassle. If the two got along well then they would be able to keep one another company at the engagement party and whatever else came up.

“What’re you reading?” Katie asked, starting a conversation between the two girls.

 Zig nudged Maya gently. “I’ll go put your bag in our room. You can go catch up with Katie- do you want anything?” she smiled at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’m going to get changed first.”

The two of them walked through to their bedroom, and Maya was overwhelmed by how comforting it was to be there. Her regular side of the bed was the one that looked slept in. She had to admit that she did exactly the same thing when Zig was away, just to be surrounded by his scent. She flopped down on the bed face first.

“That bad?” Zig asked, sitting down beside her, “want me to pet you while you make pathetic noises?” Maya whined, probably what Zig was classing as a pathetic noise. He exhaled heavily, and without looking at him Maya could tell that he was stifling laughter. “Okay, what’s up?”

“You know the tour?” she started, muffled by the bed and all its covers.

“I’ve heard about it, yeah. And I’m really proud of you.”

“I don’t want to do it.” Zig lay down. He probably knew they would be there for longer now.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he said, “but… why?”

“We _finally_ set a wedding date, and guess when Brent set my tour for?” She rolled around to lie on her back beside her fiancé. He found her hand and held it, stroking the back of it softly.

“I see.”

“And he’s going to make such a big _deal_ about it if he changes it. It’s not like he’s even booked any venues yet!”

“Uh-huh.” Maya knew Zig was just making acknowledgements to make her feel listened to, but it was working. It was all the support she really needed while she vented. She knew he was listening with all the attention he could give her, all his heart, and all his mind.

“I know you hate him.”

“I know he makes you unhappy,” Zig amended.

“I don’t want to do a tour if I have to push the wedding back, Zig. That’s the most important thing to me.”

“We could just do it, you know. We don’t have to have the big party.” But the big party was what they had been working on. They had hired a wedding planner, for goodness sake.

“You want a party though. I want that too. _Tristan_ wants that. You know we can’t let the boys down.”

“They could be our witnesses, and then their wedding date wouldn’t be a problem,” Zig suggested. Maya sat up to glare at him. “Okay, fine, no eloping.” Zig sat up, turning to face her properly. She could feel the weight of his words before he even started. “For what it’s worth, I think you should go for it- no, hear me out. This is an amazing opportunity, and I think you should take it when it’s offered to you.”

Maya nodded. “Thanks, but I’m not going to,” she said, “I made it this far on my own. You know that Brent hasn’t done anything for me other than book endless meetings that don’t go anywhere. I’ve done this much, if I want to do a tour I’ll _do a damn tour_.”

“If that’s what you want, then I’m going to support you through it, you know that.”

“I do. And I’m really thankful to have you, Zig. I missed you so much.”

“Gee, Maya, it’s like you want to _marry_ me or something,” Zig teased, pulling her to him. He kissed the top of her head sweetly.

“I love you,” she said plainly. Love didn’t always need grandiose declarations.

“I had a hunch… and I love you too.”

* * *

 

The next day, Maya stood in front of her full length mirror, adjusting her engagement party dress. Zig came up behind her, gesturing that he needed help fixing his tie- he couldn’t interrupt her phone call. She nodded, balancing the phone between her head and shoulder as she sorted her fiancé out.

“Yeah, I was hoping that _you_ would represent me, Angela,” she said, “your agency has been very accommodating of me and I don’t want to walk away from that, but I’m not comfortable being represented by him anymore.”

 _“That won’t be a problem, Maya. Do you want to put through a formal complaint?”_ Angela, one of the other talent agents that worked with Brent, said to her. If Maya was interpreting her tone of voice correctly, she was hopeful the answer would be yes.

“I’ll think about that, thanks. Oh, Angela, Brent and I were in talks about organising a tour, but the dates that he set aren’t going to be possible.”

 _“There aren’t any dates listed in your file that I can see. If you’re interested we can definitely talk about that. Hey, look, I’ll get you all shifted over and then we can make a date for you to come to LA to meet with me, but there’s no hurry for that. I just think we need to talk face to face before we do much more. Or, hang on, if it’s easier I’m going to be in New York in two weeks- we could fly you there, and that would be shorter for you from Toronto?”_ The suggestion was like a breath of fresh air.

“That sounds amazing. How do you feel about my fiancé coming with me?” she felt like she was pushing the boundaries now, but she did genuinely want Zig there, and she equally wanted to know whether or not the Zig-less trips were a Brent enforced rule or something more than that.

_“I don’t see why not. I’ll send you an email when it’s all set up, alright? I’m looking forward to working with you, Maya.”_

“Thanks, Angela, I feel the same way.” She hung up the phone, turning back to the mirror. She looked over herself and Zig and nodded in approval.

“So that went well?” Zig asked.

“The best. Come on, we’ve got a party to get to.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it! It only took several months of nothing, but the fic is finally done. I'm still not that happy with how I wrote Zaya, but at least this is in the world now.


	7. Epilogue- Things Are Lookin' Up

“Zoe?” Maya called, letting herself into the unfamiliar apartment the same way she expected her friends to feel welcome in her own. She had Tristan with her, the two of them having volunteered to come over and help unpack. The three of them- Tristan, Maya, and Zoe- had been hanging out together more without Grace being around recently, Zoe having fully integrated into their group.

“Through here!” Zoe called back, and the two wandered through to one of the bedrooms.

“You settled the bedroom choosing then,” Tristan noted, Zoe sitting in the middle of the floor with very little around her. The room was mostly the bed positioned how Zoe wanted it, with little personality or _stuff_.

“Yeah, Grace’s room is bigger but this one has the bathroom. Pass me that box?” she gestured to the stack nearest the door. Tristan passed the box down to her.

“What can we do for you?” Maya asked.

“Make the bed? Or you could pick a box and empty it?” Zoe suggested. She was thankful to have help, but she didn’t know what to do with it.

“Hoping to sleep here tonight?” Tristan asked, unfolding the fitted sheet from the pile Zoe had set out on the bed earlier. He gestured to direct Maya to the other end of the bed so they could wrestle the sheet on together.

“Yeah, make it official.”

“Official like moving in with your girlfriend?” Maya teased. Zoe rolled her eyes.

“We have two bedrooms, it’s not like we’re moving _that_ fast.”

“Lesbians are known for moving in together quickly. Next thing you’ll adopt a cat,” Tristan said.

“Maybe when I’m not so busy. Work has been crazy lately. I was filming this scene with-”

Tristan put his fingers in his ears. “I can’t believe I have access to the biggest _West Drive_ spoilers pipeline and I don’t even want to hear it.” Zoe laughed.

“You know you could come visit the set if you wanted, but I can’t be responsible for ruining it.” The internal conflict that Tristan was having then was written all over his face.

* * *

 

The kitchen at Zoe and Grace’s new apartment only succeeded at being unpacked enough to give them the bare minimum for breakfast so that they could stay over- the toaster, the cutlery, and the bowls and plates. Tristan and Maya persuaded Zoe that she had to come back to whichever apartment was chosen to eat dinner, having no faith in her ability to feed herself and not just keep unpacking until she went to bed. Where Grace had been all day was still a mystery; her room had even less unpacked than Zoe’s.

All three were stopped in their tracks upon entering Tristan and Miles’ apartment and seeing the pair of puppies being played with in the middle of the living room where their coffee table usually was, with it evidently pushed to the side to make room for the puppies. Miles, Zig, and Grace were all sitting around them, entranced by the two pups.

“Why are there puppies in our apartment?” Tristan said by way of greeting, moving round to greet Miles properly with a kiss.

“No need to freak out, they’re not staying with us,” Miles replied, only sounding mildly disappointed.

“Who _are_ they staying with?” Maya asked, joining the little circle around the puppies. One of them wandered over and nipped her fingers playfully. Zoe sat down beside Grace.

“Aww, he likes you,” Zig commented, “that’s Noodle. And this,” he said, scooping up the other pup, “is Pumpkin. At least that’s what they’re called at the moment, we can change that.”

“Someone was hungry,” Zoe commented.

“Noodle is coming home with us,” Grace said, trying to lure him over, “Zig thought we needed a man of the house.”

“And Pumpkin?” Maya asked.

“…Is my daughter and I love her,” Zig replied. Really, they should have known that when Zig and Grace had said that they should get puppies that they would follow through with it sooner or later.

“Why didn’t we get a puppy?” Tristan asked Miles, “I feel left out now.”

“They only had these two left from their litter,” Miles explained, “and getting a dog from another breed would have felt like settling. But…”

“But?” Miles stood up and extended his hand to Tristan, helping him up and leading him through to their bedroom.

“Tristan, meet Napoleon,” Miles introduced, gingerly picking up the kitten from their bed. “He’s a bit shy.”

Tristan took the ball of fluff from him. “Oh my god,” he said, “We’re the lesbians.” Miles draped his arm around him.

“Come on, let’s leave him in here where it’s quiet,” Miles said, letting Tristan place the cat down with a final little tickle.

“I can’t believe you got a kitten without me.”

“Are you mad?

“Not really,” Tristan said with a shake of his head, “There are worse ways to be impulsive.”

“And you signed up for all of it when you agreed to marry me.” He pressed a kiss to Tristan’s cheek, and they left the tiny cat in peace to join their friends again.

“We should eat,” Grace announced, to the agreement of her friends, “and then can someone drive me home? I don’t want to put Noodle down.”

“You mean this isn’t home?” Zig asked. Grace couldn’t argue with that. None of them could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you enough for the support I had for this fic. I have an idea for what I want to write next and trust me when I say it's COMPLETELY different. It's probably mostly still going to be about these pairings though, let's be real.


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